Private - Keep Out!

by Gwen Grant

  Our Tone took about seventeen hours to get ready. Even our Mam said, ‘I’ve never known anybody take so long getting ready to go anywhere before. If you were getting wed you couldn’t take much longer.’ Our Lucy said, ‘Oh, haven’t you heard? He’s got a girlfriend as well now,’ and our Tone jumped across the kitchen with the flannel in his hand and he stuffed it down our Lucy’s back. She wasn’t half mad. She was crying she was so mad.

  Our Mam says to her, ‘Now, it serves you right for tale telling,’ and our Lucy said, ‘I wasn’t tale telling. I was only …’ ‘Tale telling!’ our Tone yelled at her.

  Our Lucy sniffed and said to our Mam, ‘If you wouldn’t mind taking that wet flannel from out of my jumper, Mother,’ and she just stood there scowling at our Tone. I thought, poor old Tone. I bet something pretty horrible’s going to happen to you, because she’s a rum one to cross, our Lucy.

  Anyway, they all went out at last and we were sat there, me and our Mam and Dad and Rose and Joe, listening to a ghost story on the wireless. Our Mam blew out the gas lamp and we were sat in the firelight and it was real still and spooky, when all of a sudden there was this terrible screaming and yelling in the passage. You could tell it was in the passage because when you make a noise in there, it echoes.

  ‘Whatever’s that?’ our Mam shouted, and she was scrambling around for matches to light the gas mantle and she kept shouting to our Dad, ‘Go and see who it is, John! Go on! Quickly!’ and our Dad shot up out of his chair saying, ‘All right, Lissy, all right. Don’t panic! Don’t panic!’ to our Mam, because he was half asleep. He’d dropped off sitting there all quiet and waking up so sudden, he hardly knew where he was.

  So, our Dad shakes his head, marches through the kitchen, picks up his big torch and flings open the back door. He shines the torch down the passage and we’re all trying to see round him and there’s our Tone and Lucy rolling over and over down the passage, and standing against the wall like a weed is a tall, thin girl. She’s going, ‘Ooooh! Ooooh!’ and our Dad strides down the passage and gives me the torch to hold.

  First, he hauls our Lucy to her feet and then our Tone and he has to hold them apart because they’re both still trying to get at each other. ‘I’ll kill you,’ our Tone roars and our Lucy laughs in just the way our Tone hates. ‘Ha, ha!’ she goes. ‘You and whose army?’ Our Dad drags them both up the passage and into the back yard.

  By now all the back doors are open and everybody in the street seems to be in the yard. Mrs Elston shouts to our Lucy, ‘That’s right, my girl, stand up for your rights,’ and our Mam says to her, ‘Oh yes, you encourage her to behave like a hooligan, I should,’ and she marches over to our Lucy and says to her, ‘In!’ Our Lucy takes one look at our Mam’s face and she goes all quiet and walks into the house.

  Our Dad says to Tone, ‘I think you’d better go in as well, lad,’ and our Tone nods. Then our Dad says, ‘Is that little lass with you?’ and he looks at this tall, thin girl who’s still standing against the wall in the passage. Tone says, ‘Yes,’ and our Dad says, ‘Go and get her then. You’ll have some explaining to do there, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Our Mam says, ‘Not as much as he’s going to have to do in that house,’ and she waits till our Tone fetches this girl up the passage and then we all go into the house and our Mam shuts the back door. Bang!

  We’re all crowded into the room and I get back on the sofa before our Mam sees I’m walking around. I see this tall, thin girl is crying. There’s all tears falling down her face. It’s the first time I’ve seen anybody cry without making a noise.

  ‘Now,’ says our Mam. ‘What happened?’ Our Tone is scowling and our Lucy’s face is as white as a sheet and her lips are all tight when she’s not talking, but when she tries to say anything they go quiver, quiver. This other girl is standing there and she suddenly points at our Lucy and says, ‘It was her!’ Our Mam turns round and looks at Lucy and Lucy sort of shrugs her shoulders and screws up her face and says, ‘Well,’ and then it all came out.

  Our Lucy had followed Tone to the pictures and sat behind him and his girl-friend and just when they were kissing and cuddling each other, she stuffed an ice cream down the back of his shirt, but half of it went into his girl-friend’s ear and they’d all been thrown out of the pictures because of the noise. They’d even stopped the film in the middle and turned on the lights because our Tone was chasing Lucy up and down the aisles.

  I should have liked to have seen that and our Mam says to me, ‘You stop laughing else you’ll go straight to bed, poorly or no poorly.’ So I shut up and got right down under the covers where they couldn’t see if I was laughing or not.

  Anyway, it all ended up with our Lucy being made to pay for a new shirt for our Tone out of her paper money that she gets for taking out the papers in the night and morning, which will keep her at home for the next month, our Mam said, and our Tone having to say he was sorry to that girl and our Lucy having to say she was sorry to that girl as well.

  Then, our Mam said it was time for some supper and she said to the girl, ‘Do you want some supper, love?’ and the girl said, ‘I’d rather go home, I think,’ and our Tone put his fist up at Lucy and luckily for him, our Mam didn’t see it.

  That girl went out saying to our Mam, ‘I’ve never been so ashamed in all my life,’ and I looked at our Lucy and she looked at me and I said to her, ‘I don’t like her either,’ and Lucy grinned and said, ‘I shouldn’t have done that, though,’ and went to bed before our Mam came back.

  But that was no good and I could have told her so because all that happened then was our Mam said, ‘And where is that little madam?’ and I said, ‘I’m here, Mam,’ because usually it’s me she calls that. She smiles at me and says, ‘Just for once, it’s not you,’ and I said, ‘I don’t know where she is,’ and she says, ‘I’ll find her,’ and she went straight upstairs and didn’t come down again for ages.

  My legs hurt that much from where that motorbike ran over them that I couldn’t get to sleep that night and every time our Lucy and Rose moved, they kicked me. So in the end I woke our Mam up and she said, ‘Come on. I’ll make you a bed up on the sofa,’ so me and our Mam slept downstairs in the front room all night. Our Mam slept in the big old armchair and when it was half-past five, she went and shouted our Pete up. He came tumbling down the stairs as if he’d got his eyes shut.

  ‘What’s up, my old love?’ he says to me when he saw me lying on the sofa and I told him my legs hurt. ‘That kitten’ll be very nice then, won’t it?’ he says and I says, ‘What about our Prince?’ and our Pete says, ‘Well, what about him?’ and I says, ‘He doesn’t like cats,’ and our Pete starts getting mad then and saying, ‘If you don’t want a kitten, just say so.’ So I said, ‘I don’t want one,’ and he went, ‘Oh! Oh! Never grateful, people in this house aren’t,’ and then he says, ‘Well, you’re getting one anyway, whether you want one or not,’ and I thought, ‘Boy, I’ll be glad when I’m better and nobody wants to bring me things any more.’

  Anyway, our Pete slammed out of the back door and our Mam says, ‘Why don’t you want a kitten?’ and I says, ‘I don’t really like them, Mam,’ and our Mam says, ‘Well, you’re a funny one, aren’t you?’ and everybody in the whole wide world seems to agree with that.

  Anyway, I was lying there wondering why people can’t fly, because it would be very handy when you’d hurt your legs if you could fly, when our Pete comes back for his breakfast and hanging from his hand was this old brown sack with a lump in it and the lump was going ‘Spit! Spit! Psssst! Yowl! Grrrr!’ and our Mam looks at the sack and she says, ‘What’s that?’ and our Pete says, ‘It’s that kitten for madam there, for a pet for her,’ and our Mam said, ‘Are you sure?’ and our Pete says, ‘Why? Why?’ and our Mam says, ‘Oh, nothing, nothing. Only it doesn’t sound very happy, does it?’ Personally, I thought it sounded as if it had gone mad but nobody asked me, of course.

  Our Pete walks over to me and he upturns this sack and this kitten drops out on to my knee. I th
ought it was a baby tiger the way it carried on. It spat and scratched and clawed me until I had to let it go. It’s all striped, as well, and it looks like a tiger.

  Our Mam looked at it and then she looked at my arms which were covered in scratches and she said, ‘Are you sure it’s all right?’ and our Pete said, ‘Of course it’s all right. It’s her.’ (pointing at me), ‘She doesn’t know how to handle them.’ ‘Oooooh!! Make way for Jungle Boy,’ I said.

  By now the kitten was swinging along the top of the curtains and our Mam says to Pete, ‘Get it down from there, it’s tearing all my curtains,’ and our Pete reached up for it and it went, ‘Pssst!’ and he jumped back as if he’d been shot. I laughed like a drain but I soon stopped when our Mam said, ‘As you think it’s so funny, you get it down,’ and I tried and the rotten thing bit me.

  I screamed blue murder and our Dad came in from work and said, ‘Why is she always screaming when I come home?’ and our Mam had just started saying, ‘Whatever do you mean, always screaming?’ when the kitten swung across the curtains and made a jump for the mantelpiece and our Dad looked at it and said, ‘I don’t believe it,’ and our Mam said, ‘It’s true. It won’t come down and it’s bitten madam there and scratched our Pete.’ So our Dad said, ‘Leave it to me,’ and he went to get it and trod accidentally on our Prince who’d just poked his nose out from under the table to see if he’d imagined hearing a cat in the house. Our Dad went flying and our Prince went scuttering round the table howling his poor little head off.

  ‘You big bully,’ I shouted at our Dad and our Mam reached over and slapped my arm. ‘Well, he is,’ I yelled and I had to pick our poor old Prince up and love him better. Our Dad sat on the sofa and he kept saying, ‘If ever a man suffered,’ and our Mam snapped at our Pete to get that cat out of the house, but we couldn’t catch it.

  We got it down in the end because our brilliant Pete threw an old towel over it and it was hissing and scratching inside it and our Mam looked at Pete and said, ‘And you brought that home as a pet?’ Our Pete said, ‘It was her that done it,’ and I said, ‘Oh yes, blame me, it’s always me’ (which they always say it is).

  Anyway, our Dad said, ‘You’d better take it back to the farm,’ so our Pete took it back after he’d had his breakfast and the farmer said to our Dad when he saw him later that he’d told our Pete his farm cats were really spiteful and he didn’t think it would do as a pet, but our Pete wouldn’t be told.

  ‘And that’s the trouble,’ our Dad said when he’d finished telling our Mam the story. ‘They never will be told, any of them. We were never like that when we were kids,’ and I thought, Oh heck, here we go again, and our Dad goes on and on about how they were all so wonderful when they were little kids.

  They sound really horrible to me and I don’t know how they ever got to make any friends, they were so good. Although I don’t have many friends at all – any friends I suppose – and our Rose always says, ‘That’s because you’re so bad, it’s more trouble than it’s worth to be friends with you.’ So I don’t know.

  7

  ‘Could I really have blown up all the seaside, Mam?’

  Our Mam said, ‘It’s a good job your legs are strong enough for you to walk on now, isn’t it?’ and I said, ‘Why?’ and she said, ‘Have you forgotten? We go on the seaside trip on Sunday,’ and I had forgotten and it’s the nicest thing that’s happened in ages.

  We go every year and it’s smashing. Everybody’s going. All our family and everybody in the street. Our Mam said, ‘Don’t you eat too many shrimps this time,’ and I said I wouldn’t because I ate too many last year and I wished I was dead all the way home. Granny Bates sits next to me in the bus because she’s always wanting things out of her bag and she says, ‘Your legs are younger than mine,’ but they don’t feel it when we get out. I have to get up and down, up and down, about five million times for her.

  First, she wants a drink of tea. I said to her, ‘What would you do if you were in the desert, Granny?’ and she said, ‘However would I get to be in the desert?’ and I said, ‘Well, you won’t, will you, but what would you do if you did?’

  ‘Did what?’ she said.

  ‘Find yourself in the desert,’ I said. ‘What would you do without your tea?’ and she said, ‘Oh, you can always get a cup of tea, no matter where you are,’ so I asked our Mam later if Granny had ever gone to school and she said, ‘Why?’ and I said, ‘Because she says you can always get a nice cup of tea, even in the desert, and you can’t,’ I said. ‘It’s all sand.’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t go to school,’ our Mam says. ‘But she’s never had to wittle about whether or not she’d get a cup of tea in the desert before, so I shouldn’t bother her about it now.’

  But Granny Bates brought it up again herself and says, ‘Here, Lissy, what would I do if I were in the desert and wanted a cup of tea?’ and our Mam glared at me and said, ‘You little devil. I told you to leave well enough alone,’ and then she said to Granny Bates, ‘Now, Granny. When are you ever going to be in the desert?’ and Granny said, ‘You’re right there,’ and then she said to me, ‘I don’t think I’ll buy you an ice-cream today.’ So I said, ‘Why not?’ and she said because I was nothing but a trial and a worry.

  Anyway, it’s going to be different this year. I asked our Mam if I could sit next to her and she said, ‘Oh no. Your Dad always sits next to me,’ and I said, ‘Well, can I sit with you halfway and our Dad the other half,’ and she said, ‘No, because Granny Bates’ll have your Dad up and down, up and down, and he won’t have a minute’s peace.’ So I said, ‘But I don’t get a minute’s peace either,’ and she said, ‘Your legs are younger than your Dad’s.’

  ‘But I got run over by a motor-bike,’ I said and tried to look poorly and sad. She frowned at me for a minute and then she said, ‘So you did,’ and she told our Dad he’d have to sit with Granny halfway and I’d sit the other half because of my poorly legs and our Dad looked at me and said, ‘That’s not the only thing that’s going to be poorly about that young madam if she keeps this up,’ and our Mam said, ‘Now, John,’ and he frowned at me and I started crying and then he had to put me on his knee and say he was sorry and I was to stop crying else he’d get in bother with our Mam so I stopped.

  I didn’t want to push my luck too far.

  I thought Sunday would never come but it did. First thing I thought when I woke up was, no Sunday School today, and then I thought, Cleethorpes! I jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs and when I went into the kitchen they were all there drinking tea and eating toast and dripping and I says to our Mam, ‘Weren’t you going to take me then?’ and she says, ‘Of course we were. I was just letting you have another five minutes,’ but our horrible Rose said, ‘There’s no breakfast left for you. We’ve eaten it all. We were going to sneak out and leave you behind in bed, fast asleep.’

  Then they all started laughing and our Mam said, ‘Stop tormenting the child,’ and I said to our Rose, ‘I’d rather stop at home than go anywhere with you, Spotty,’ and our Rose said, ‘Mam! Mam! She’s name calling again,’ and our Mam says, ‘For goodness sake, stop it, both of you.’ Then she said to me, ‘And you’ll go back to bed, madam, if you don’t behave yourself.’ I thought, what a life when you’ve got brothers and sisters, but I thought I’d better not say any more so I pulled a face at our Rose instead and she hit me on the head with a teaspoon.

  I said to her, ‘I bet you think I’m an egg, don’t you?’ and she said, ‘If you were, I’d cut your head off with a knife and not just bash it with a spoon,’ and our Mam went, ‘Rose!’ and our Rose had to say she was sorry and I stood there trying to look all hard done by and our Mam said to our Rose, ‘Don’t you ever let me hear you say anything like that again,’ and our Rose said no, Mam, she wouldn’t.

  Our Mam says to me, ‘One more word out of you, young lady, one more word!’ and I thought, ‘Oh boy, this is going to be a long day.’

  Our Mam always gets worried that we’ll all miss the bus so we
had to stand outside Mr Banks’s shop at a quarter to six and we weren’t going till six o’clock and you can practically touch Mr Banks’s shop from our front-room window anyway, and everybody was saying, ‘Oh, Mam. Why do we have to stand there gawping at everybody? We can see when the bus comes from here,’ and our Mam said, ‘I know you can see when the bus comes, but folks aren’t going to queue up behind us here, are they, and you know what you lot are like for sitting near the window.’

  So, we all trooped out and stood there waiting for the bus and we weren’t the first at that either. There were all the Byelows for a start and there’s hundreds of them. ‘Not much chance of getting a window seat here,’ our Lucy muttered and she and our Rose started saying they weren’t going if they couldn’t sit together. I said, ‘I should have thought you saw enough of each other at home without sitting together as well,’ and Pam Byelow shouted to our Rose, ‘Who you sitting with, Rosie?’ and our Rose wouldn’t answer her because she’d called her Rosie. Our Mam was standing there trying to pretend she hadn’t heard Pam Byelow talk to our Rose but in the end she had to say something. I thought she was going to burst until she did.